


An Ending

by friar



Category: Tales of Symphonia
Genre: F/M, First Meetings, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 17:37:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18035858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friar/pseuds/friar
Summary: Things had ended, then and there.





	An Ending

**Author's Note:**

> A ficlet request for moeblob @ tumblr  
> Their prompt was: Kratos, "end"
> 
> I can't remember much ToS backstory lore, but I hope this works!

 

Kvar had taken him on a tour of the facility. Everything was in order, “naturally”, as Kvar was sure to prove at every opportunity. Like a perfectly oiled gear in a larger mechanism, the ranch ran so smoothly that everyone there seemed to be just like gears: clockwork, with their eyes cast down and their motions stiff, robotic.

 

After the tour he strolled around a bit. Cleared his head. This place stank of death, and the sense of suffering just wouldn’t leave him. It would be worth it in the end, but right now it seemed… wrong. He rubbed at his eyes, sore from lack of sleep and peace of mind.

 

Then he saw her.

 

Silky haired and beautiful, she was just about as close to an angel he’d ever seen. Which was ironic, as angels… well, he put those thoughts aside. But she was  _ beautiful _ , unlike so many things in their world of half-cast shadows. From just one look he wanted her. Was that wrong? Should he even try to make conversation? Inappropriate, yes, to even try reaching her. It wasn’t his place, he’d get in trouble, and right now Mithos wasn’t a guy he wanted to cross. Surely this human woman wasn’t worth the trouble. She was beautiful, but was there more than that? Wouldn’t she be broken down by hardship? Wouldn’t she scorn him?

 

Standing behind her, he cleared his throat with a few short coughs. Nothing. He walked forward, brushed against her shoulder with his own. She jumped back.

 

“Sorry,” he said, then: “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

 

She didn’t turn to face him. “What do you want?”

 

It took him a few moments to grasp the answer to her question. “Your name.”

 

By all accounts, she should have turned and walked away. She certainly was as slow to answer as he’d been. But, finally, “Anna.” 

 

“A nice name,” he blurted out, turning red at his own eagerness. Gods, he must sound ridiculous - must look it too - standing and talking to a prisoner with such enthusiasm! She didn’t even bother to answer, instead clutching at the hem of her shirt, still with her back to him. He cleared his throat again. “I’m Kratos.”

 

Nothing. Of course, what would she say? “ _ Pleased, I’m sure, to meet such a terrible man _ !”

 

This wasn’t going to work. What a fool he’d been for even trying to talk her up! Most likely she hated his gall, to take advantage of his position to -

 

“... A nice name.” Her voice shook, but then she chuckled, and he realized it was a jest. He forced himself to laugh, obviously too loudly, because she flinched and spun around.

 

His breath caught in his chest. She smiled. Instead of hatred and resentment, the eyes that met his own were full of wonder.

 

\---

 

Starlight was brushed across the side of her face, giving her a speckle of luminous freckles. He carefully pushed his fingers against her cheek. When she didn’t wake, he kissed her, once there and once on her mouth. She was frowning in her sleep. He would have to do something about that later.

 

With a grunt he turned onto his back, folding his arms across his chest. Lying side by side with her, even here in a makeshift tent, miles from civilization and all alone… it was like electricity, a lit fire that burned through him, kindled on the day they ran away. Ever since then it had been back alleys, farmhouses, the middle of the woods… But there wasn’t a need to settle down (as if Cruxis would give them a chance for that). He didn’t mind the endless chase, really. It made him feel alive, it made him tense with energy and always ready for something new. He’d never felt this way before. And Anna… laughing, smiling, holding his hand… she was a wonder. There was no task she turned her nose up at. Just the other day he’d caught a fish for their dinner, and without word she’d gutted it, cleaned it, cut it into strips and cooked it over a crackling campfire (which she had of course built herself).

 

A wonder. She was the most brilliant thing in the universe. 

 

This was their life now. Castaway and villains. Thrilled, he turned back to her, cupped her face in his hands and just stared. With her by his side, he swore he could run forever. 

 

\---

 

This was what he deserved, wasn’t it? Their brittle happiness shattered by his own two hands. 

 

The distant cries of his son still rang in his ears. Still just a baby, and gone. They had named him and held him and that was all they’d been given. And Anna… she was a tattered mess of bones and rotting flesh, by now, smeared with blood and stuck far underground. He should join them. He belonged at her side now, nowhere else but in the dirt.

 

Thoughts of her flashed in his mind. She had been smiling and bright eyed and beautiful. They had laid side by side. She wouldn’t turn to face him. He just wanted to know her name…

 

The grief was heavier than all of heaven, but he couldn’t bring himself to die. For whatever reason, he’d continue on. Hell, there was no reason. Things had ended, then and there. 

 

Still he strapped the weight of his sorrow on his back and continued running.


End file.
